“Terribly…sorry,” Simon replied with a grunt, turning his head in an effort to watch the performers vault into the air. More poles extended from the animal automaton, glittering in the pale daylight like silver batons. Cherie, as well as a handful of other sparkling performers, were all soaring majestically through the air as the music lulled everyone into a state of fantasy. More of the grim horses from the carousel pranced atop the crowd, and Simon jumped back when he saw a young girl being hauled up on horseback and evaporating into the soot gray sky.
“Seven hells!” he yelled, the music sweet and angelic in his ears. He could hear Miss Baxter in the back of his mind, telling him not to listen, but even as he was about to clap his hands over his ears the masked woman beside him screamed as the steaming nostrils of a dead horse skeleton bugled beside them.
“They’re after us!” she cried, pulling at his arm as she turned to escape the crowd. Simon’s eyes widened as he was hauled along, trying to shake himself free.
“They’re after me!” he said, squeezing past overzealous spectators eager to see the show. “Please Miss, if you let me go…” His words were cut short as he ran into yet another man head first. His eye impacted the hard bone of the fellow’s shoulder. Simon could feel the bruise already purpling as the idea to simply turn ethereal struck him. Mr. Todd was relieved to let go of his physical body, but very perplexed as the woman continued hauling him away from the prowling mounts of Manny’s reaping carousel, seemingly unaffected by his current disposition.
In fact, it seemed like she only ushered him along quicker, and as the crowd slowly began to dissipate, with no indication as to the whereabouts of his companions, Simon noticed the long hem of her gown fluttered about her legs more like she was floating than running.
They had turned a corner, leaving the square well enough behind. They then turned another corner, before crossing the street and entering what appeared to be a theatre lobby. The smell of popcorn and melted butter hung in the air.
“I’m sorry,” his companion said after a moment, finally letting go of his arm to step back. There was a window overhead, grand and opaque, with the silhouette of a clock ticking from one side. Blinking bulbs over sepia colored movie posters were distracting as Mr. Todd stood straight to regard her suspiciously.
“I’m sorry,” he echoed her words, feeling rather confused. “I’m not really sure what occurred back there.”
“They were reapers collecting souls. Usually normal people cannot see when they are harvesting but susceptible souls can.” She looked much calmer now that they had fled outdoors. Long curled hair bounced about her shoulders, black like pitch with flecks of white dispersed throughout.
Simon felt a bit taken aback. “Well, I know that,” he said, afterwards regretting his petulant reply. “I mean, I just didn’t realize you were,” he cocked an eyebrow, “a ghost?”
The girl paused a moment, then chuckled sweetly. Simon was a bit relieved by it. It didn’t sound at all like her laugher contained a trace of disbelief. Maybe she was a ghost.
“I’m Cosette,” she said, holding out her hand.
Simon blinked, horrified at the notion that he may have forgotten his manners. “Simon Todd!” he said at once, taking her hand in his with a bow. She had short, tiny fingers, but her gloves were rumpled about the forearms as though she had something wrapped about her arms inside.
“Oh, I know who you are.”
Mr. Todd stood back up, raising another enquiring brow with her hand still in his. “I…” he stuttered, feeling awful at the thought of forgetting the name of a young lady. “Apologies, Miss. I don’t seem to remember you.”
The young girl shook her head as Simon tried in vain to see past the cloudy lenses of her respirator, hoping to identify her. In the back of his mind something told him that the name Cosette was familiar.
“Well, I do look different than before,” she said.
Simon laughed. “That, and you’re also wearing a mask.”
“Oh.” Cosette reached up, unbuckling two of the five straps that held the respirator to her face. One had been a bit more difficult to remove, since it went up over her head into the tangle of her sausage curls.
Simon stared at her curiously, waiting for that moment of ah ha when he could finally connect the name to the person. As she slipped the leather contraption off however, the young man took a step back, utterly astonished by the sight of the woman in front of him.
She looked — somewhat — human. She had a face and nose and nice rounded lips, but protruding from her mouth was a set of very sharp, curved teeth that resembled thick fishing hooks. They jutted from her top lip, pressing into the reddened skin on the bottom and producing bluish bruises against the white flesh where they pinched just above her chin.
Her second most noteworthy feature were her eyes. Two of them were like almond-shaped marbles. All black, it was like looking into polished, wet obsidian. The other six however, sat in a crescent pattern along her forehead and were much smaller. Simon could see himself as he fearfully gazed into their depths, visions of spiders crawling over his skin as the widened chasms threatened to consume him.
“My word!” he said, looking at the floor of the theatre. “You’re…” He stopped himself before he could say it.
“Do you recognize me?” Her face brightened, all eight black eyes widening in her excitement as she stepped forward.
“I…” He tapped his chest with his fist, feeling a lump of dread catching in his throat. “You’re…”
“I had to hide my legs, but a lady’s skirt does so well, don’t you think, Mr. Todd? Cherie suggested it.”
Simon almost fainted at the sight. Cosette! He remembered the name at last! Long, black, smooth appendages shifted slightly as she moved her dress aside. Spindly, they were the enormous limbs of an eight-legged, well six legged, she did have arms after all, arachnid.
“A spider!” he blurted, his lower lip trembling. A few of the theatre goers regarded him as Mr. Todd stepped away, paying more heed to the over anxious young man than to the orb-eyed young lady.
“Well,” Cosette replied with a singsong voice. “A spider-lady more like.”
Simon held up a hand, fingers shaking. He took another few steps back toward a bench at the far wall. Keeping his eyes on her, gesturing for her to follow, Simon inhaled as he attempted to sit and promptly fell through onto the floor.
“Damnat—” He caught himself before he could spew a string of profanities. Pushing himself to the side so that he was still seated on the carpet, but without the seat of the iron bench sticking out and bisecting his forehead, Simon inhaled.
“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling rather silly as he rubbed each temple with his thumbs and stretched out his legs. “Perhaps if you explain?”
“Explain? Oh.” She looked around, stooped, and then smoothed out her skirts around her as she took a seat. “Well, to be honest I’m not really sure how it all happened.”
“What?” He clenched his teeth together, looking up at her when she smiled.
“I think it was when you fell from the roof after our visit.”
Simon felt his eye twitch. “The roof?” Miss Baxter’s roof? Simon couldn’t stop the blood quickly draining from his head, then his face flushed scarlet.
Cosette nodded, her smile pulling her teeth along her bottom lip and making reddened lines against her skin. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Mr. Todd. I did so love your visits to the roof. I was only hoping to whisper into your ear. You didn’t seem to be able to hear me every time I called out to you.”
“You were…a spider on the roof?” Mr. Todd creased his brow.
“Yes,” her smile faded a bit, “on the day you fell, I tried to help you up, but I was too small at the time.” She breathed in, momentarily living in the sorrow that was her failure. “I do hope you’ll believe me. You were the only one that ever sought to visit me on that roof. I very much didn’t mean to scare you.”
Simon shook his head, pushi
ng himself up with the balls of his feet. “I…” he paused before offering a hand to help the young lady up. Again, he found she could grasp him despite his ghostliness. “But, how are you a spider-lady now?” He struggled to find the right words.
Cosette smoothed down the rumples in her dress. From the waist up, save her rather odd eyes and protruding teeth, she looked just like a young girl. “I’m not entirely sure to be honest.” She seemed to bite the inside her cheek. “But I know that there was definitely magic involved. I believe your neighbor, Miss Baxter, had something to do with it, only, she wasn’t aware I was sitting in your coat pocket at the time.”
“In my…?” The thought of it horrified him.
“If I could guess, the ritual separated us. Part of yourself and I combined and separated. You gave me a part of your soul and your body. I gave you my babies.” She pressed her finger to her bottom lip.
“B-babies?” Simon’s eyes were large, full moons.
Cosette nodded. “When you sneeze?”
“Oh gods!” He turned away, holding his mouth, pressing his thumb and pointer into his nostrils. Her babies? he thought frantically. How many had he callously squashed in his handkerchief?
He pivoted, feeling like a change in subject was obviously in order. “How are you here now?” he asked.
“I followed you.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I can run very fast and climb well.”
All those times of seeing spiders hovering over him in his dreams came back to him suddenly.
“Cherie suggested this dress. The circus was my favorite place.” She twirled. “Do you like it?”
Simon nodded, not really paying much attention to her attire, but not wanting to seem impolite. “It’s uh…lovely,” he agreed.
“I picked it out especially for you, Mr. Todd. I’m very fond of you.”
“Fond?” There was a bell tolling in his head, warning him he desperately needed to have a conversation with his fellows, and in particular, Miss Baxter. Why hadn’t she told him she’d tried to cast a spell on him? If it had been the results of her spell that initially transformed him into a phantom, why had she been silent about it? The whole ordeal was insurmountably perplexing, but even as Mr. Todd began to think on it further, the clock behind him began to chime, reminding him he was due to have wild boar at his parent’s house soon.
He frowned, rushing to remove his pocket watch to regard it. “Drats! I’ve dinner in an hour.” He felt very much like he had begun to conclude the jigsaw puzzle of this entire adventure when someone had come along and upset the table on him. There really was no one to blame, but it was all very arduous, frustrating and confusing.
“Dinner?” she inquired.
And now there was the issue of the young spider girl! What was he supposed to do with her? He didn’t have anywhere he could direct her to wait for him.
Shaking his head, Simon paused in his thoughts. “Where are you staying, Cosette?”
She shrugged, hands splayed out in front of her. “Usually in a tree. There are so many buildings here so I’m sure there’ll be a roof to perch on.”
Simon stared at her, eyes roaming the delicate fabric of her obviously expensive dress. “You slept in a tree?” he asked again, incredulously.
“Sometimes. I don’t quite hold on to things as well as I used to.”
“That simply won’t do.” The idea of a young woman, spider or no, slumbering in the branches of a tree flabbergasted him. He looked around aimlessly, feeling somewhat responsible for the young lady now. He had a few pieces of gold left. He could probably find a place for her if he had more time, but as it was there was an hour between him and his parent’s house.
“If I’m late for dinner my father will be cross.” Again, Mr. Todd looked down at his watch. “Or even more infuriating—disappointed.” He made a face.
“I could come with you,” she suggested. Simon looked back up, trying to gauge the response bringing an odd-looking spider woman to dinner with him would elicit. She certainly wasn’t grotesque, and perhaps even a bit cute if he could get past the eyes and hidden legs, but she was…well what did Simon Todd know about her?
“I…well…” He looked toward the door, remembering Manny’s circus probably still entertaining in the square. There was still so much more he wanted to ask her, and despite his trepidation regarding her appearance, Mr. Todd didn’t want her to be sucked into the world of Mr. Grim either.
Mortimer Grim! Didn’t he say he’d come for me when… The young man gulped. Thinking back on the bony hands of the Grim Reaper; how he’d promised to come for him when the other half of his soul passed, Simon paled.
“I think you better come, Miss Cosette.”
The girl was delighted. Chuckling into her palm, she looked up at him through thick eyelashes present only on the largest pair of her eyes. “Yay!” she said, jumping in excitement.
Simon paled a bit when her skirts fluttered away from her legs, but looked away, swallowing his growing fright as he gripped his watch from within his pocket.
“Shall we?” he asked in a bit of a shaky voice, offering his arm and hoping he didn’t appear reluctant.
“Oh yes, please!” Cosette replied, pressing against him a bit closer than was appropriate. “Lead the way, Mr. Todd.”
Simon cleared his throat. “Y-yes,” he said. “Off we go.”
Chapter 34
Samovars Are Tired Of Tea Puns
The fortunate thing about the trip on the Gray Train was that the couple had a respectable amount of time to converse in relative privacy. Simon Todd had to admit he liked the city for its anonymity. Small towns like Darlington, rife with bored neighbors just hurting for gossip, left respectable young men like Simon Todd guarding everything he said. A large city like Ebonguard, where gossip was as plenty as its people, meant small nobodies like the young accountant could virtually go unmolested despite his topic of conversation.
He did however, still have a great propensity for manners, and so he didn’t ask anything too untoward. But, he did learn that she had a taste for jasmine tea.
“You must have inherited my taste buds!” he exclaimed. “I haven’t been able to experience any degree of flavors since my mishap. Jasmine tea was my favorite however, though I’ve always hated Frelish Breakfast.”
“I haven’t tasted many,” she admitted as they stepped off the train and began walking away from the station.
“We should test it, I think.” He smiled. “See what parts of me you’ve acquired.”
Her face grew bright despite the setting sun casting shadows around them. “Perhaps you’d like to taste a fly?” she asked.
Simon grimaced, eyes large as he turned away and regarded the cobbled road ahead. “Perhaps not,” he said, not liking the lump in his throat he suddenly experienced.
Coughing, Simon listened to the train chugging away in the distance. Farther away from the inner city, the stations were rather small, with much more flora decorating the isolated platforms. As the two walked towards his parent’s home, purple, flowering Lady Heart trees began to open to the impending moonlight, soaking in the sunset.
“How did you learn to talk?” he asked, clearing his mind of the previous subject. He felt a tickle in his nose.
The thought seemed to perplex her. “I suppose I always knew,” she said.
Simon wondered if she had acquired a bit of his memories and knowledge on top of his taste in tea. If that was the case however, perhaps she also knew his secrets as well, his undying affection for Miss Baxter and his business relationships with the Stein sisters.
“Under the accrual basis of accounting, revenues are reported in the accounting period when?” he blurted rather abruptly. It was a basic question. Anyone who had even heard two accountants talking would know the answer, surely. But did she? Simon waited with bated breath.
“What?” She laughed. “Accrual?”
Simon scratched his nose.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” C
osette said.
Simon exhaled a sigh of relief. Not everything then. That was well enough for the time being, he supposed.
“Never mind.” He chuckled, espying the warm brick and wrought iron fence of his mother’s home.
“Oh.” He suddenly realized, stopping to address her seriously a moment. “My parents don’t really know that I’m a… well a ghost,” he said. “My father’s also quite prejudiced about wizards and my mother tends to forget things as soon as she hears them.” Simon pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes looking into the darkening sky. “I suppose it would be best if we…”
“Simon!” Mr. Todd turned on his heel, smiling awkwardly to his mother as she shouted and waved from the doorstep. “Your father said you were coming!” She called, the black wrap still adorning her shoulders. “Come inside! The roast is ready.”
Simon waved back, nodding anxiously as he sniffed and his mother returned inside. “Coming, Mum!” he said, grabbing the handkerchief from his pocket when he suddenly sneezed.
“Are you alrigh…?” He held up his hand before Cosette could inquire, eyes wide as he struggled to contain the horrid little beasts as well as his scream of horror.
“Alright!” he said back. But the small creatures were wily, crawling over his fingers as he balled one hand into a fist. What would she think if she knew I had just crashed them all? Her babies. I can’t let her see!
And so Mr. Todd chucked the entirety of his poor, infested handkerchief into the brush, shaking his hand and hoping the few arachnids left behind were dispensed as he did so. When he turned back, the young girl was chuckling.
“Um…” Simon pulled at his lapels in an attempt to correct himself. He shouted unexpectedly when another spider crawled up his shirt towards his tie. Cosette leaned forward before he had a chance to squash it however, gingerly sliding one gloved finger beneath the spider’s legs until the creature grasped on.
“It’s rather cute,” she said, black eyes glassy.
Simon didn’t think there was anything even remotely cute about the creature and watched with a sour expression as she held her hand up and the foul thing meandered about the tip of her finger.
The Curious Case of Simon Todd Page 37
